


You, Me, and This Town

by JessBakesCakes



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Gen, Parks and Recreation vibes, Small Town Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:54:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29761326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessBakesCakes/pseuds/JessBakesCakes
Summary: Josh returns to Connecticut after his dad dies and gets involved in local politics. Modern, AU, eventual Josh/Donna.
Relationships: Josh Lyman/Donna Moss
Comments: 38
Kudos: 43





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Okay, so I've been working on this one for a little while. I've been calling it the "Parks and Rec AU" - it's certainly Parks inspired, but not necessarily a 1:1 - more "local government AU" than Parks AU, but still. Definitely shades of Parks as the story goes on. Anyway, this is the first real AU I've... ever posted, that I can remember, in terms of the canon being completely different. I'm going to borrow some of Sorkin's dialogue at the beginning of this, and I may bend a little of canon to my will, but most of this will be AU. And I promise, even though it will take a bit to meet Donna, this is 101% a Josh/Donna story at the end of the day. I hope you enjoy it!

Josh hangs up the phone and stands up, shoving his chair back toward his desk before walking toward the filing cabinet. The day is dragging, and it’s only ten o’clock. In D.C., by the time he looked at the clock, it would have been nearly three and he would have realized he’d forgotten to eat. 

It’s nice being back home, at least in some ways. There’s a comforting sense of familiarity about it, but it feels strange. Sort of like visiting your old elementary school but realizing everything looks and feels so…  _ tiny _ . He really misses D.C. He misses the feeling he got when a vote went his way, or when his guy nailed the answer to a question from the press. Coming home after his dad died was the right decision, especially knowing he would be closer to his mom, but he didn’t realize he would feel this… unfulfilled. It’s been almost five months since he moved back and working at his dad’s small law office hasn’t gotten any more exciting. 

He’s thought about making a change: packing up and moving someplace else, convincing his mom to do the same, starting over again in a new city. It sounds nice some nights, especially when he walks through the door of his house six hours earlier than he would have on any given night in D.C. There’s a part of him that feels like that should be reversed - he should be glad he gets to go home at a reasonable hour, not itching to move again just to do something exciting. Westport was home, but it was… too much. Between the constant apologies, sympathetic glances, and his mom’s hovering, he needed some space. So he found a small property in Oak Haven, about twenty minutes outside of Westport, and bought it on a whim, convinced that maybe it would help him feel settled. It hasn’t yet. Despite all the reasons to stick around, he feels more restless with every passing day.

Josh reaches for a file on his desk and watches the precariously positioned pile of work tumble onto the floor. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes before he kneels down on the floor to survey the damage. 

“Knock, knock,” he hears a cheerful voice sing-song from the doorway. “You want some help?”

When he looks up, he sees his dad’s — his— assistant, Eliza. Eliza’s a good assistant, all things considered. She’s always on time, she’s great with the clients, and she’s very sweet. Josh knows he’s more abrupt than his dad used to be, but she’s still hesitant around him like he’s ready to blow at any moment. His mom has scolded him enough that he’s become a lot gentler with her than he was with any assistant he had in D.C. - in fact, he really likes her. She’s just… another reminder of his dad. 

“I’ll be fine,” Josh says, scooping up a pile of papers and shoving them into the nearest folder without bothering to check if they actually belong there. “What’s up?” 

“Mr. McGarry is here to see you,” Eliza says, unconsciously tucking a strand of her strawberry blonde hair behind her ear. 

Josh stands up. “Leo McGarry? Did I have an appointment with him?”

“No, but he says that it’s time-sensitive,” Eliza explains. “I didn’t want to send him in here without asking you first, but I know he was a friend of your dad’s. I told him I had to be sure you were finished with a conference call. I hope that was okay.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’ll come and get him in a sec.” 

Josh re-rolls his shirt sleeves up to the elbows and lets out a sigh. He hasn’t seen Leo, aside from briefly at his dad’s funeral, in a couple of years. Their paths crossed in D.C. occasionally, but after Leo left they didn’t really keep in touch. Of course, Josh knows that if Leo had called to set a time to meet, Josh would have done everything in his power to put off meeting with Leo for as long as possible. 

When Josh graduated from law school, Leo was the one to get him his first job in D.C. - Josh passed the bar exam and was in D.C. the next weekend looking at apartments. Leo had an eye for a good opportunity, and if he was reaching out to Josh, things were about to change. A welcome thought, of course, considering he’d spent months hoping for something to light a fire under him. But now that the possibility was presenting itself, it just… wasn’t the right time. The concept of the  _ right time _ was an elusive one - an exciting one, but elusive nonetheless. 

Still, he owes it to his dad to meet with Leo. So Josh walks down the hallway and into the lobby to escort Leo to his office.

“Leo,” Josh says, extending his hand as he rounds the corner.

Leo is seated in the large leather chair reading the newspaper when Josh arrives. He folds the paper and places it back on the table, buttoning his suit as he stands before taking Josh’s hand. “Josh, it’s good to see you.”

“Good to see you too. You can come on back to my office.” Josh tilts his head toward the direction of the hallway. “Can I get you some water or something? I’d offer you some coffee but it’s sweltering out there.”

“No, thanks, I’m fine,” Leo says.

“I don’t know how you’re wearing that suit. I think I’d melt.” Josh waves Leo into his office.

“Well, your dad always kept it pretty cool in here. I wasn’t sure if you even knew how to adjust the thermostat,” Leo teases.

“Quite the vote of confidence,” Josh says, motioning for Leo to take a seat. “You doing okay? Mallory doing okay?”

“We’re fine. She told me to tell you hello. We missed your mom at the fundraiser thing the other day,” Leo says, taking a seat across from Josh. “She makes that stuff a little less miserable.”

Josh leans back in his chair. “Yeah? I’ll pass that along. I think she liked going to them, it’s just hard on her now.”

“She holding up okay?”

“She’s trying to set me up on a date with her neighbor’s daughter, so I’d say she’s pretty deep in the denial phase of things,” Josh says. “Either that or she’s creating her own phase called ‘meddling’, but she’s been doing that my entire life, so.”

Leo nods. “She’s probably just glad to have you around. She missed you while you were in D.C. You being back here takes her mind off things. Gives her a distraction.”

“As evidenced by the meddling,” Josh says. “What can I do for you?”

“I want you to come and listen to Jed Bartlet speak tonight,” Leo says. “It’s at the college.”

“Bartlet? The economics department chair?”

“The very same.”

“I never was much of an econ guy.” Josh grabs a pen, absentmindedly clicking it as they talk. 

“His lecture is on the local economy and civic engagement, followed by a Q&A. I think it’s in your wheelhouse.”

“Leo —”

“He’s running for mayor. We want you on the campaign, Josh.”

The office suddenly feels stuffy. Josh sits up in his chair and runs his hands through his hair, unsure how to proceed with the conversation. “I know we talked at the funeral about making the leap to local politics, but I don’t know if now’s the right time.”

“It’s never going to be the right time with you if you don’t get a big push from some external force,” Leo says. “Bartlet is that force. I’m that force.”

“I don’t know, Leo, I’ve got a lot going on here.”

The look on Leo's face indicates that he doesn't really buy Josh's excuses, but he continues. “Too much going on to notice when the real thing is right in front of you? Josh, look, I’m telling you, you’re not going to regret this. Listen to his speech and his Q&A, then come find me.” Leo stands up. 

“Why?”

“Because that’s what sons do for old friends of their fathers. See you tonight, Josh.” Leo walks out of Josh’s office and shuts the door behind him.

Josh tosses the pen aside and processes the conversation he just had. He was looking for a change, yes, but he can’t help but feel like he’s throwing in the towel on his dad’s practice before he even hears the potential candidate speak. He’s got six or seven different contradictory trains of thought in his head and he can’t seem to find where one ends and the other begins. Trying to pull each idea out one at a time to address it independently feels like how he remembered his grandmother’s knitting - different colored balls of yarn, all tangled together in a knot on the other end of a half-formed project.

He pulls out his cell phone and searches for a number, dialing it on his office phone. Josh needs an outside perspective, and he knows just how to get it. The other line rings only once.

“Sam Seaborn.”

“Sam. It’s Josh.”

“Hey, buddy! How’s it going? Haven’t heard from you in a little while.”

“It’s going okay. Listen, you wanna have lunch today? I’ve got something I want to get your opinion on.”

Sam and Josh had mutual friends, and their paths eventually crossed enough times that they became friends themselves. Josh had been trying to convince Sam to join him in D.C., but Sam wasn’t quite ready to make the leap. It had been a few months since Josh and Sam had spent any real time together, but Josh knew that if he wanted a sounding board for a potential idea, Sam was it. Sam has always had a way of taking whatever side he needs to in an argument, helping Josh articulate pros and cons for whatever is on his mind. And he needs that now more than ever. 

“Sure,” Sam says. “You want to go to that burger place with the good onion rings?”

“Noon?” Josh asks.

“Okay. I’ll see you then.”

Josh hangs up the phone and swivels back and forth in his chair. Maybe he’d ask Sam to join the campaign, too. Josh rubs his hand on the back of his neck, again reminded of the situation he’s in. It was unlikely that Leo was wrong about this guy, but there’s always a chance things wouldn’t work out. He knows better than to put all of his efforts into something that may or may not take off.

When Josh arrives at the restaurant to eat lunch with Sam, it doesn’t take long for Sam to sniff out what Josh needs help with. Even the surface level “How’s it going” type questions shed light on how things were at Josh’s dad’s office, and how ready Josh was for a change. Sam doesn’t even have to ask before Josh gets straight to the point.

“I got a visit from Leo McGarry today at the office. He wants me to try my hand at a local election.”

Sam closes his menu. “I haven’t seen Leo in ages. He’s usually right about those things, isn’t he? When he picks a guy, I mean. He usually has an eye for it. At least that’s what you tell me.”

Josh nods. “He does. I just don’t know if I want to get back into politics right now.”

“Well, what else would you do?” Sam asks, taking a sip of his drink. “And don’t say the office, because you and I both know that the office isn’t what you want. Most of your dad’s clients have found other representation, and the clients who you brought in are either small potatoes or they defect because they can’t stand to work with you.”

“Hey,” Josh laughs. “I know you hear things, but watch it.”

“Look, Josh. You’re bored. You’re miserable. You miss D.C. Why not try something different?”

“You think I should do it, then?”

“Of course I think you should do it,” Sam says. “I know I’ve thought a lot about it myself. I was ready to come to D.C., but you moved back here.”

“Now you tell me." Josh pauses, rolling the wrapper of his straw between his fingers. "If I see the real thing tonight, should I tell you about it?” 

“You won’t have to.”

“Why?” Josh takes a drink of water.

“You’ve got a pretty bad poker face.”

Eating and catching up with Sam gives Josh a rush of excitement. It’s probably premature, considering the fact that Josh knows next to nothing about this guy that Leo’s picked out. But that’s a problem that’s easily solved. Josh decides to channel that excitement and head back to the office to do some research. 

He tells Eliza to hold his calls and locks himself in his office for the next few hours, delving into the history of Dr. Josiah Bartlet. Josh reads a few of Bartlet’s papers in various journals before diving into his history at the university. Bartlet was appointed to the board of trustees a few years back and seems to be a go-to interview for the campus newspaper when a faculty perspective is needed. Online student evaluations seem to paint a picture of a tough but fair professor with a tendency to ramble and a love of Notre Dame football. 

By the time he has a decent idea of who Bartlet is, it’s time to head to campus. When he arrives, Josh grabs an issue of the school paper on the way in, seating himself in the back of the auditorium. The seat creaks loudly as he sits down, and a few people turn their heads to see where the noise came from. 

The auditorium is fairly empty. There are a few people who have attended solo, seated as far away from each other as possible. There are a few groups of three or four undergrads huddled together, talking in hushed voices save for a few outbursts of laughter and instances of escalating volume. Josh assumes they’re probably all from the same 100-level summer course, attending the lecture then heading to someone’s dorm to get drunk and write a one-pager for an easy “A”. 

Josh scrolls through his phone as he listens to Dr. Bartlet. As far as speeches go, it’s pretty good. The talking points are interesting, and the language makes him sound a little less ‘lecturing professor’ and a little more ‘politician’. He also seems to handle the Q&A with a decent amount of poise. He’s funny and decently engaging. Dr. Bartlet’s answer to one question about Title IX even reveals that he could potentially have a lot of support from women if he could translate it into a solid platform for local policy. 

Josh can’t help but compare him to the politicians he’s seen in D.C. - Josh knows it’s not quite the same, but Bartlet could fit in well in Congress. Bartlet is interesting, but there’s something that’s missing. Leo’s guys usually have a  _ thing _ about them, this x-factor that makes them The Guy. What was it about Bartlet that Leo liked so much?

Josh finds the answer in a response to the last question of the evening.

“Dr. Bartlet, you were a faculty member of the board of trustees who voted a couple of years ago to change the university’s current athletic scholarship GPA requirement to align with the NCAA. Given your stance on community engagement, coupled with your intent to run for mayor, can you tell us how you plan to regain the trust of the members of the student body who aren’t athletes and how you’ll justify this to the public at large?”

Bartlet takes a beat before answering. “Yeah, I screwed you on that one.”

Josh locks his phone and turns his complete, undivided attention to Dr. Bartlet. 

“I screwed you. You got hosed. I’d imagine it feels pretty unfair. My daughter had something to say about it, too. But according to a recent study by the National College Players Association, 86% of college athletes live below the poverty line. Some of the guys on our football team fall into that 86%. Guys who sit in the classroom with you and work with you on the group projects that your professors love to assign but you hate to do. I wonder if some of them would be here if it weren’t for those scholarships.”

Josh wonders briefly if Leo had prepared Dr. Bartlet for this question before realizing that this response was probably completely off the cuff. The answer was refreshingly honest from a member of a university board, let alone a politician. This was it. This was why Leo liked Bartlet.

“Fewer than 2% of college athletes make the jump from college athletics to professional sports. I want these athletes to be able to earn a college degree so they can make a living outside of the world of sports. If that makes you angry, that’s fine. I respect that. But if you expect anything different from me as mayor, I suggest you vote for somebody else. Thank you very much, hope you enjoyed the free pizza.”

The crowd applauds and Josh darts toward the front of the auditorium, looking for Leo. He finds Leo sitting in the center of a row, buttoning his suit as he stands up. He turns to exit the row and sees Josh standing in the aisle. He nods to Josh and moves toward the aisle, passing Josh on his way by. Leo claps a hand on Josh’s shoulder. “Meet me at the campaign headquarters on Monday morning. It’s on Center Street next to the coffee shop. I’ll introduce you to everyone else.”

Josh nods and Leo exits the auditorium. Josh moves to leave shortly after, tossing the newspaper in a nearby recycling container before making the walk toward his car parked across campus. His mind is already on overdrive, thinking of possible campaign strategies and local groups to partner with to ensure a win for Bartlet. He drives to Sam’s place almost on autopilot, his thoughts on the campaign the entire time. This is the most hopeful he’s been in months.

Josh pulls into Sam’s driveway and jogs up to his doorstep. Josh rings Sam’s doorbell and shoves his hands in his pockets, kicking away a small rock from Sam’s welcome mat. Sam opens the door, takes one knowing look at Josh, and motions for Josh to come inside. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the feedback on the first chapter! I'm so glad everyone's enjoying it so far! I promise there will be small-town shenanigans as we get further into the chapters... these first few will be a little bit of set up, but I have some fun stuff planned for later chapters! Thanks to my Tumblr friends who have listened to me talk this chapter to death.

Josh spends the weekend strategizing and researching. By Sunday evening, he’s got a notebook’s worth of ideas intermingled with bits of opposition research and assorted reminders and notes. It’s nearly 1 AM by the time he shoves the notebook in his backpack and attempts to call it a night.

He’s not sure if he can’t sleep because it’s too hot or because he’s too anxious (or a combination of both), but he stares at the ceiling for hours before finally deciding to get an early Monday morning start. Josh arrives at the Bartlet for Mayor campaign offices just after sunrise. Leo’s already there to greet him, a cup of coffee in one hand and the morning paper in the other. 

“You’re here early,” Leo says, turning on the lights in the main part of the office as he opens the door for Josh.

“Just ready to get started,” Josh answers.

“I’m assuming you managed to farm out everything you’ve got going on at the office,” Leo says, the slightest hint of a smirk on his face.

Josh chooses not to respond. Instead, he looks around the campaign headquarters, filled with boxes haphazardly stacked in various parts of the room near mismatched desks and tables. The campaign is clearly in its infancy - most of the desks are bare save for a stray coffee cup or a page of a days-old issue of the newspaper. But there’s a desk situated near the front (that Josh nearly walks into as he follows Leo) that looks occupied. Josh spots a small white notepad with an “M” written in black script at the top along with a coffee mug in the same style. “Margaret’s desk?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” Leo says. “She’s our office manager.”

“It’ll be nice to see her again,” Josh muses.

“I don’t know if ‘nice’ is the word I’d use to describe it,” Leo says, starting the coffee pot in the corner. “But she’s one of the only people I’d trust to keep the place running.”

Josh follows as Leo makes his way down a long hallway and turns into a small office, taking a seat at what Josh assumes is Leo’s desk. He motions for Josh to sit, and Josh does. Leo puts on his glasses and pulls out a folder from an organizer on his desk. “We want you to be the political director for this campaign. Find the right constituency groups to meet with, build relationships, and get their endorsements. You’re going to need a field director at some point. We’ll help you find someone if you don’t have someone in mind.”

“A field director?” Josh says. “I handled stuff like this in D.C. all the time. I can do both.”

“Maybe for a week or so. Things are quiet right now, but this time Friday afternoon you’ll be drowning in meeting requests.” Leo doesn’t lift his gaze from his folder as he continues. “You may want to ask Eliza if she’ll join you. She can be your assistant. Well, you’ll have to share her with your field director, of course.”

“I don’t need a field director,” Josh insists, firm in his stance. 

Leo doesn’t push the issue further. “We’re also bringing in a communications director, a research and policy director, and you mentioned that you’ve got a guy to help with speechwriting.”

“Sam Seaborn.”

“I like Sam. Never seen his writing, though. He any good?”

“The guy’s a lawyer, but I’ve never met anyone who can write like he can. It’s freakish, really.”

“He’s coming to the staff meeting today?”

“Yeah,” Josh says.

“Good. We’re hoping to get things moving these next few days. If we do this right, this time next week this place will have phones ringing off the hook and you’ll be falling asleep at your desk at 2 AM,” Leo says. 

Leo sets Josh up in a medium-sized room with two desks, a small conference table, and a filing cabinet. “This desk will be for your field director.”

“Leo, really, I won’t need one.”

“Eliza can sit outside the door. She’s got easy access to Margaret at that desk there,” Leo continues, motioning to a desk nearby. “You think she would follow you over?”

Josh shrugs. “I don’t want to put her out of a job, but I don’t want to force her into one, either.”

Leo laughs. “You clearly don’t know Eliza very well. You can’t force her into anything.”

“Really? I always thought she was kind of…”

“A doormat?” Leo supplies. 

“I wasn’t going to say it exactly like that, but… yeah.”

“She’s the most nervous person I’ve ever met - hell, she makes me anxious just being in the same room as her - but she’s more headstrong than she lets on. You’ll ask her if she wants to join us, she’ll hesitate and ask thirty people for their opinion, but she’ll go with her gut in the long run,” Leo explains, leading Josh toward the back of the campaign offices. “Check in with her today. See what she says. Let’s go talk to our candidate, shall we?”

Dr. Bartlet is sitting at a table by the window with a cup of coffee and the morning paper, muttering to himself as he reads. He hears Josh and Leo approach and folds the paper before standing to greet the two men. “Ah, if it isn’t my new secret weapon.”

Leo grins. “Not such a secret if you’re going to refer to him that way in public.”

“Why, you know, Leo, you’re right. And in front of all the people hanging around,” Dr. Bartlet deadpans, motioning to the otherwise empty campaign offices.

“Josh, this is Jed Bartlet. Jed, this is Josh Lyman. Josh and I crossed paths a lot in D.C. - I think you’re really gonna like him.”

“You from around here, Josh?” Dr. Bartlet asks, shaking Josh’s hand.

“Westport. I live in Oak Haven now, but I grew up in Westport.”

Bartlet nods. “Westport’s all right, I’ve got nothing against Westport. But I’ll have you know that the Oak Haven location of Holly’s Bakery is far superior to the one in Westport.”

“No arguments here,” Josh agrees.

Josh and Dr. Bartlet spend some time getting to know each other - or, more accurately, Josh spends some time listening to Dr. Bartlet discuss the history of franchising. Holly’s isn’t a franchise, Dr. Bartlet is quick to note (franchising it would ruin the charm), but the economic impact of franchising… well, Josh can really only gather that there was one, sometime, at some point. 

“Staff meeting’s at 10:30,” Leo finally says, saving Josh from a continued lecture. “I figured you’d want to do some work in your office until then, so I had Margaret get you set up with a phone and a computer.”

Josh decides to take Leo up on the offer. He unpacks his backpack and tosses the notebook on his desk before starting up the computer. It’s still a little early to be making business calls, so he decides to delve deeper into his research from the night before. 

All in all, there are seven candidates who have met the filing deadline requirements in order to appear on the ballot, including Bartlet. Of the six other candidates, Josh has determined that only one poses a threat to his guy. He predicts that some of the five non-contenders will drop out before the debates, and at least one will suspend their campaign as the result of some sort of controversy. The others just don’t have the credentials or the clout for the public to consider them. Bartlet has a decent shot on paper, but in practice, Josh knows it’s an entirely different ballgame. That’s why Leo brought him on. 

He works for a little while until Margaret stops by with an index card containing the username and password for his campaign email account, stapled to a sheet of paper with instructions on how to set up the account on various mobile devices. 

“Be sure to change your password when you log in for the first time. Don’t use your Mets password,” Margaret warns. 

“My _what_?” Josh yelps. 

Margaret shrugs. “You use it for everything and it’s too easy to guess.” She turns on her heel and walks out of Josh’s office to answer a ringing phone at her desk.

“How did you…” he calls after her but sighs when she doesn’t stop to continue their conversation. Josh looks down at his phone, then at the instructions Margaret gave him, and closes his eyes. “I’m gonna have to change all my passwords now, huh,” he says under his breath.

“You have to change your passwords?” Sam asks from Josh’s office door.

Josh glances at his phone for another moment, then back at Sam. “Long story. You ready for this meeting?”

Sam nods. “Leo introduce you to everyone yet?”

“Just Dr. Bartlet,” Josh says, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he walks with Sam toward a small meeting area on the other side of the office. There’s a worn leather couch and four metal folding chairs set up by the window in a semicircular formation. Leo is talking with two people Josh doesn’t recognize - a woman who has taken a seat on the couch, and a man who is perched in one of the folding chairs. 

“Perfect timing,” Leo says. “CJ, Toby, this is Josh Lyman. He and I worked together some in D.C. He’s going to be our political director.” Leo motions toward Sam. “This is Sam Seaborn. He’s the attorney for the school district, but Josh tells me he’s a hell of a speechwriter. How do you and Josh know each other, anyway?”

“Long story,” Sam says. “It’s nice to meet you both.”

“Hi,” Josh says, greeting both CJ and Toby with a handshake. 

“This is Toby Ziegler. He’s a communications professor at the college. Toby’s the director of research for the campaign, but he’s also written the speeches we’ve given thus far. You and Sam will be working closely together, I’d imagine.” Leo walks over to the couch. “And this is CJ Cregg. She’s going to be our Communications Director and Press Secretary. CJ basically ran Channel 9 until about two weeks ago, but we were lucky enough to snatch her up.”

CJ smiles. “You flatter me, Leo, I was _this close_ to taking Sydnee Hall’s seat at the news desk one morning and quitting live on the air.”

“That bad, huh?” Sam asks. 

“I had it all planned. There wasn’t a day that went by where I didn’t strongly consider it.”

Josh crosses his arms. “Glass ceiling thing?”

“Nepotism thing,” CJ says with a shrug. 

“Tough break,” Sam responds sympathetically. 

“Yeah, well. We’ve all got our baggage, don’t we, Spanky?” CJ moves past Sam to head toward the coffee maker. 

Sam raises his eyebrows and looks at Toby. “Spanky?”

Toby shrugs. “She does it to everyone. You get used to it.”

“But… Spanky?”

“It’s one of the better she’s doled out in her time, believe it or not,” Toby says.

This seems to assuage Sam’s earlier concern, and he doesn’t protest further. He takes a seat in the empty folding chair.

“You two know each other?” Josh asks, motioning back and forth between CJ across the room and Toby, still seated in his chair. 

“I tried to recruit her to run the TV station at the college a couple of years back,” Toby says. “She did a trial summer term and it was so bad she swore she’d never teach.”

Josh raises his eyebrows and takes the empty spot on the couch. “College kids can be brutal, but she ran Channel 9. They must have done a number on her for her to be done with it before she really started.”

“I’d bet a hefty sum that it wasn’t the students so much as the overbearing parents,” Dr. Bartlet says, narrowly avoiding CJ as she rounds the corner to return to the meeting area with a cup of coffee. “Does that sound like an accurate assessment, Claudia Jean?”

“Spot on, sir,” she says, sliding back into her spot next to Josh. 

“All right, I think we’re ready to get started,” Leo says, taking a look at his watch. 

Dr. Bartlet clasps his hands together. “Before I let Leo do my bidding while I spend the next several days grading papers, I wanted to say a few words. For as far back as we are able to trace the Bartlet family tree, my family has lived in this town. My great-great grandfather’s portrait hangs in City Hall, as he authored the book that details most of our town’s early history.” 

He takes off his glasses and holds them in his hand as he continues, walking from one end of the small meeting area to the next. “With the exception of the years I spent in pursuit of higher education, I, too, have spent my life here. This is where my wife and I raised our three daughters. I have seen this town’s residents band together in times of hardship, and I have seen them enjoy more prosperous times alongside one another. I want to be mayor of this town to help better the lives of all of those people. We make decisions, however insubstantial they feel to us, that have an impact on others. What we do here, win or lose, will make an impact. Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful and committed citizens can change the world. It’s the only thing that ever has.”

As Dr. Bartlet walks away, Leo starts to hand out packets of paper. Josh accepts the packet that Leo gives him, rolling it up in his hand before he turns to CJ. “So do you think he ends all his classes like that, or…”

“Each of you has a draft of Dr. Bartlet’s 12 policy initiatives,” Leo says, leaving Josh’s joke untouched. “Based on the talks we’ve had with folks around town, we anticipate getting the most pushback on our platforms for small business, public transportation, and education.”

“What kind of pushback?” CJ asks. 

“I’m guessing it’ll have something to do with _partnering with_ _women-owned and minority-owned small businesses_ ,” Toby says, scanning the table of contents on the second page. 

Leo nods. “They also don’t like our plan to expand access to OHART.”

“Let me guess, new bus stops are an eyesore,” Josh says, flipping through his packet. 

“Something like that,” Leo answers. 

“What a wild and crazy idea, making public transportation accessible,” CJ says, adding an eye roll for effect. 

“This is why this town can be a pain in the ass to live in,” Toby says. “The people don’t care what’s good for them, they just care about how _picturesque_ it is.”

“So we throw them a bone,” Josh adds. “Punch up the platform on parks and recreation, promise them a community garden, maybe a couple of state of the art playgrounds.”

“But then you know there’s going to be a fight about what side of town it’s all built on,” Toby continues. “Can’t let the poor kids use the rich kid monkey bars. May rub off on them.”

Sam moves to sit on the arm of the sofa. “If we use the right language we can make any of these ideas sound great. Not that they aren’t great as it is. But we just need to find the tone and stick with it.”

“Well, then, that’s what we’ll work on nailing down before we officially launch. Sam and Toby, I want you to polish the language on some of this to start. We want to have a website up and running by next week, so it may be a good idea to summarize each initiative as well,” Leo says. “Find the tone.”

Sam and Toby move to a conference table in the back of the room, Toby marking up his copy of the platform initiatives and Sam brainstorming aloud as they walk. 

“CJ, I want you to find Dr. Bartlet some time on the air on any local station that will have us next week. We don’t have room to be selective here. I also want you rubbing elbows with the folks from _Times_ and the _Tribune_ , see who would want to sit down on the record. There’s a lot of people in the race right now, even as early as we are in the process, so name recognition is key. The earlier we get out there, the better our chances.”

“I’ll make some calls,” CJ says, moving toward an area she seems to have commandeered as her workstation. 

“Josh, there’s a lot of interest groups in the area, but see who would be willing to take your call. We don’t want to make our guy seem inaccessible, but do your best to feel out the situation so we can make a plan before you toss him to the wolves.” 

Josh nods and walks toward his new office. He throws his backpack over his shoulder and walks out the front door, formulating a plan as he heads to his car. Before he gets started on the rest of the day’s work, he has to talk to his assistant.

The drive over to his dad’s office is short, but Josh manages to make a few campaign-related calls on the way. When he arrives, Eliza is sitting on the floor next to a small shredder, cross-legged, between piles of paper.

“Josh,” Eliza says, hurrying to stand. “I didn’t think you’d be in today.”

“Do you like this job?” he asks, not bothering to ease into the conversation.

Eliza pauses, not sure how to answer the question. “What do you mean?”

“Do you enjoy doing this job?”

She turns red, glancing down at a pile of post-it notes next to her on the desk and grabbing it in her hands. “Have I done something wrong? Because you can tell me…”

Josh shakes his head. “No! No, it’s not… I’m not your boss right now. I mean, I am… but. You can be honest. I’m not trying to trap you.”

She looks up at Josh and takes a deep breath. “I really liked your dad. He was a great guy. I like you, too. You’re a lot like him in a lot of ways. But the job can be…” she trails off, fanning the pile of post-it notes in her hand so they make a soft shuffling noise. 

“You don’t have to sugar coat it, seriously,” Josh reassures her. 

“Soul-crushingly boring,” Eliza says. 

Josh grins. “Okay. See. You and I are on the same page. I hate this job. My dad really enjoyed it, but it’s not for me. It’s the most mind-numbing job I’ve ever had, and I worked at the ice cream parlor in Westport three summers in a row.”

Eliza laughs. “The one with the goofy hats?”

“Well, that was unnecessary,” Josh teases, feigning offense. “What if I told you that there was something else I could offer you?”

“Okay…” Eliza says, the hesitation evident in her voice. 

“Let me put it to you this way. My dad had a lot of respect for you. My mom reminds me every Friday night at dinner that I need to be nice to you. And I think you’re a great assistant. I’m seriously considering shutting things down here to work for the Bartlet campaign, and if you’d like to be my assistant, I’d like to bring you along.”

“Josh,” Eliza says. “I’m… wow. I’m flattered.”

“So, you’ll do it?”

She nods. “I mean, I would like to talk to my fiancé about it first. You know, just… he doesn’t need to make the decision for me, or I don’t need his approval…”

“I get it,” Josh says, remembering Leo’s assessment of Eliza from earlier. “Take the day and talk to him. I’ll be at the campaign offices at 7 tomorrow morning. If you decide you want to join me, great. If not, no hard feelings. I’ll write you a great letter of recommendation and help you find something else.”

Eliza nods. “Thank you,” she says. “I’ll probably see you tomorrow. Most likely. I think.”

~*~

By the time Friday morning rolls around, Josh realizes that Leo may have been - is - right. He’s in over his head, and he needs a field director. Josh is grateful that Eliza decided to join him on the campaign, and she keeps him as organized as she can, but just as Leo predicted, Josh is overwhelmed. He’s spent his week meeting with different interest groups and has a waiting list of nearly a dozen more. Despite the late nights that turn into early mornings, he doesn’t feel any closer to nailing down a strategy to win the public over than he did earlier in the week. 

Josh knows that if he approaches Leo about it, he won’t have the luxury of being spared the ‘I told you so’ speech. He stops for coffee at the coffee shop next door before making his way back to campaign headquarters, formulating the best way to approach Leo without getting an earful.

“Morning,” Eliza says. “Messages are on your desk. You have that teacher's breakfast at 9, a staff meeting at 3:30, and your mother called to remind you about dinner tonight. I did want to ask you —”

“Teacher’s breakfast?”

“Remember? We talked about it yesterday?”

“Okay,” he says, not entirely convinced that the conversation wasn’t a figment of Eliza’s imagination. 

“Anyway. I wanted to ask…”

“Can we touch base after breakfast? I’ll be much more likely to remember the details of whatever Mayberry-inspired event someone’s signed me up for after I’ve had a couple of mediocre cheese danishes.”

He walks into his office to find a young woman sitting at the previously unoccupied second desk that once sat next to his. She’s pulled it into the corner on the other side of the room, so the desks are facing each other from opposite sides. Her desk is neat, but not sparse - there’s a bouquet of sunflowers sitting on the corner next to a pair of framed photos positioned beside her computer on either side of the monitor. She’s humming quietly to herself as she works, moving books from a stack on her chair to a small shelf beside her. She turns to grab another stack when she makes eye contact with Josh, and she smiles brightly at him.

“Hi,” Josh says.

“Hi,” she parrots back, pushing up the sleeves of her sweater before grabbing another stack of books.

“Who are you?” he asks, studying her as she continues to organize. 

“I’m Donna Moss, who are you?”

“I’m Josh Lyman.”

“Ah.”

“Yes.”

Her bright smile grows wider and she stops to look Josh in the eye. “I’m your new field director.”


End file.
